


In the Dawnlight

by manicprophet



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, spoilers for chapter 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicprophet/pseuds/manicprophet
Summary: The Mandalorian shows his face.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 137





	In the Dawnlight

Once they were safely in space, the Mandalorian felt the weight of everything that happened to him in Nevarro on his shoulders. In fact, his whole body ached and his injuries throbbed throughout his body. His thoughts wandered back to Cara Dune, Greef and Kuiil and how they aided him at the cost of nearly everything for the sake of the child. He stared up wearily toward the ceiling of the _Razor Crest_ when he remembered IG-11’s sacrifice to protect them. How IG saw his face; the only being, living or not, to have truly seen him in years.

“Damn droids,” the Mandalorian sighed.

He stood up from the pilot’s seat, noticing that the child wandered off again. The Mandalorian shuffled back to his quarters, managing not to limp too badly, ready to lie down and let the bacta continue healing his head injury. He knew would be a corpse left behind in that bar were it not for IG, and the Mandalorian would have never known what would have happened to the child.

The Armorer's words echoed back to him. Clan of two. He really was the child’s father now, at least until he found the child’s homeworld and returned him back to his own people. If that ever happened. He had no idea how long it would take for the child to reach adulthood, but the Mandalorian would have to teach him the creed when he'll be old enough to understand. The child was such an enigma to him, with his strange abilities and sorcery. Every day the little scamp surprised him. He had to make sure the child apologized to Cara later for nearly choking her.

Father. In accordance to the creed, a Mandalorian could only reveal his face to family. The signit on his armor made their bond official now. What kind of father would he be if his son didn’t know what he looked like?

With a groan of pain, the Mandalorian hoisted himself up from his cot and made his way back to the child’s makeshift bed. He still had his pendant in his little hands, looking over at it. The little guy probably didn’t understand what it meant, but in time he might one day. The Mandalorian knelt down next to the child’s bed.

“We’re a clan,” the Mandalorian said. “And… that means I can remove my helmet in front of you now. Do you want to see what your father looks like?”

The child tilted his head to the side, curiosity plain in his big round eyes. The Mandalorian didn’t actually expect him to suddenly speak and answer him, but he took it as a yes. Aside from IG, this was now going to be the first being in so many years to have seen him. He remembered how Omera nearly became the first person to see him without his helmet. It was so tempting to let her remove his helmet and settle down with her and Winta, create their own family with them and the child, but the creed called to him and won. Yet he didn’t feel any pangs of regret after leaving them.

It was time now, no more stalling. He had the full attention of the child now. The Mandalorian’s hands reached to his helmet and he let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He slowly lifted it, not breaking eye contact with the child, and once it was gone he felt so vulnerable and so utterly human.

“My name is Din Djarin,” he said. 

He slowly placed the helmet down on the floor and brushed back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “So, what do you think?”

The child’s ears curled back, almost like he was shocked by what he saw. Din huffed out a chuckle. “Scared of me?” He hadn’t washed the blood off his face, so perhaps that startled the child. Or maybe the child thought he peeled a layer of skin off his face. Who knew what the little womp rat was thinking?

Din reached over to his helmet, eager to put it back on, but he froze when he noticed tiny green hands reach for him. Din leaned toward him, he could tell that the child wanted a closer look. Those hands touched his face gingerly, like Din was the fragile one. He didn’t even notice his eyes had closed as the child chirped inquisitively and inspected his face, going over his stubble and poking his nose with a claw.

His heart swelled with affection. The child needed him and, even without the creed, Din swore to be the one to protect him. Din was about to stand back up after letting the child go over his face, but the child’s hands stilled and something told him to stay put. The wounds all over his head began to mend, the flesh knitting together as the child healed him. His thoughts went back to when he first rebuffed the child’s attempt to heal his arm and when he witnessed the child use his magic to heal Greef and cure the poisoning that was definitely going to kill him. It had to be the most amazing, impossible thing Din had ever seen. He was going to prove himself worthy of being a father.

The child slumped back after he finished healing Din. Din searched all over his scalp and felt no more pain. Even the scratches on his face had closed and somehow his mind felt clearer. This time he did chuckle as he grabbed his helmet and stood up, his body no longer feeling so heavy. It felt like he was able to breathe again. 

Greef was right, the little guy would take care of him.

“You happy, kid?” 

The child cooed sleepily and smiled up at him, settling down in his blankets to rest.

“Yeah, me too.”


End file.
